The Creature of Platinum Plateau
by hydroblaster2000
Summary: Dean is on a perilous journey to the Platinum Plateau, where he is rumored by a 'friend' that he will meet his fate, or something else. This is the first era of his adventure in which he is captured by the great volcano lord. Created by Christopher Zhang,


Chapter 1

**The Barman**

The air streamed through the wilderness like a flowing stream. Dean stared up at the high, dark silhouettes of mountains in the distance, a thick fog immobile upon its many bluffs and ledges. Dean slowly headed off towards his journey to the Platinum Plateau, knapsack and quiver secured to his back and bow clutched in his hands.

The leather boots upon Dean's feet kicked past the thin tall blades of yellow grass, which were knee-high and bent easily in the breeze. Dean paused for a second to adjust the strap of his knapsack and then continued his path across the winding brick roads that crossed one another. The outline of small huts in the distance meant he was near a village of some sort. He cautiously peered at the village, which seemed to be desolate. The air had turned an eerie sharp cold, which bit, and sank its teeth into Dean's cheeks. Dean froze and strung an arrow across the bowstring at the ready with both hands. Nothing happened, except for a flock of crows that flew out of the skies. Dean shuddered and continued. The houses were made out of gray mud and were ancient with charred roofs that once were made of hay. The ground seemed slightly crumbly, and made of charred bits of wood and rock, burned to a deep shade of black. Dean slowly made his way through the village.

Dean's ears soon heard the unmistakable cough and snarl of a dwarf. As Dean searched around, he saw the dwarf sitting on a boulder and putting on a large boot, his eyes concentrated, as it groaned in effort. Dean looked at the dwarf, who finally looked up after he tightened the straps of his boot, which he had fitted on and were evidently messily made. The dwarf stared for a split second and then said in a croaky aged voice, "Who are you?" "Dean, sir." "What are you doing here in the sacred domains of Lord Grout?" "Lord Grout, who's he?" asked Dean looking curiously at the dwarf. "You mean, you've never heard of him? Blimey, mate. The Volcano God, obviously!" "There's a volcano? Around here?" "Sure is, just continue by the road and you'll see the volcano, tall and charred, steaming always and that's probably why its so foggy round here anyway. Floating volcanic ash, I reckon." "Why's here so empty?" "Uh, well you see…" "The villagers died." "What?" "Died, yes it's a sad tale. I think a young lad like thou shouldn't here it, for 'tis a gory and filled with sad tales, indeed." "You better go to Robin's Inn at the edge of the town. By the way, my name's Boat, if you ever need me. Maybe we can go fishing tomorrow, together." The dwarf winked, its sparkling blue-black eyes flashing and its thick leather boots twitched as it stood up and limped away. Dean looked around and to his surprise so Robin's Inn was not so far away. The inn was painted gray, for the paint was peeling and looked like a tall turret more than anything. The doors were thick and wooden and only four windows were around the inn facing the north, south, west and east directions. Dean cautiously walked towards the inn, an odd chill floated around the place and whatever it was Dean didn't appreciate it.

Dean knocked and after a few seconds, a small eyehole piece from the door was shunted aside and a bloodshot eye peered through it. Through a latch growled the voice, "who are you? A trespasser like those bloody scoundrels, am not ya?" "That relies on your opinion, sir." "Now, don't you act wise with me, lad. What's your name?" "Dean, sir." "Indeed, well welcome to Robin's Inn, Robin's just at the counter. He opened the door and glared at Dean. The inn was a narrow place with rowdy talking about and mournful music. The guard, whoever he was carried a heavy cleaver in one hand as he glared out from his eye about. Robin was a man, thin and meek in appearance with long fingers. His face looked elfin and his ears were a bit sharp at the edges. "What does thy soul want at such an inn?" "Please, sir I'm seeking some proper shelter." At these words, the man's face looked up an odd glimmer in his eyes. "The inn is most pleased to grant newcomers, come in. Do you want to stay for a week, a night, a month?" "Several weeks, doubt a month, how much?" "A few coppers, that's all." Robin accepted the thin pieces of copper from Dean's outstretched hand. A few men at the tables gulped down some root beer and laughed, the wiry brown bears illuminated by the candle, hazy with smoke. A piano was stationed at one end of the inn and a man was playing it in plain white clothes, a candle atop the smooth wooden surface. His fingers tapped across the white keys making a steady rhythm.

Robin kindly offered Dean a drink of beer, but Dean rejected that he didn't like the strong stuff. A man in a cloak invited Dean to sit with him. The man was odd looking with a face covered in shadow; his fingers were very pale and ancient yet wrinkled. "Are you a young lad?" "Yes," said Dean curiously. "For a copper piece, I'll gladly tell your fortune." Dean sighed, his money was scarce but he did not want to upset the man. He set a copper circular disk on the table.

The man, whoever he was took out a many-dimensioned crystal and set it upon the table. An odd milky glow spread from the shape as it flickered and flashed upon the walls around it. The man looked into Dean's eyes. "Few have been granted the power to see the future, I am Robert The Fortuneteller." Dean said nothing except he stared back into the man's eyes. "Calm down," said the man, quietly. Dean relaxed his muscles as Robert sighed softly. "Yes, now gently close your eyes and clutch my hand. I shall interpret your fortune, indeed. The man's face was still covered in shadow as Dean felt the old hand in his hand. The hand was very cold, as it had just been in a cold bath. The man gently breathed, inhaling softly. The inn's talk faded in Dean's ear and whispers arouse inside him, none able to hear. He heard the man inhale sharply and breathe out again. "Thank goodness," he heard him say. "You can open your eyes." Dean opened his eyes and immediately the talking came back, Dean rubbed his brow, as a glass clattered onto the floor in the inn. The man or Robert clasped his hands together and looked up at Dean, through the darkness that swallowed his face. "Dean, a great beast lies in your path, silver and strong, with a hide so thick no arrow can pierce it. Larger than a boar but with long, yellowing tusks a beast you shall encounter. Its eyes are white, and possessed looking. Hair is twisted across the thick hide of it, no sword can slash or block any attack by it. However, it has been imprisoned for twenty centuries in the Platinum Plateau, which I can tell is where you are heading. Continue your journey, but I warn you and listen to thy clues. Never underestimate those who are cunning. Thou should not pick up all that is tempting. Dark realms may turn out to be the opposite." Robert grasped Dean's hand.

"Your kind is scarce in the world, use your soul wisely and get by quickly." The man had a determined accent upon his voice now. "The beast lies untouched and unawake now, but its time in this state shall be short." The man waved a by after sweeping up his crystal and walking out of the door. Dean looked after him, feeling clammy. Dean paused, his head seemed cold and frozen, could this just be an act? He looked back at the table and to his surprise saw the copper piece was still there. It wasn't, he told he shuddering as Robin bought a glass to the table. "You look all clammy and cold, you can warm yourself up upstairs and get to your bedroom, which by the way is R23, with a bathroom at the end of the hallway and your bedroom has been cleaned shortly and emptied of all debris. Feel free to plunge your aching body into the soft feathery covers, Dean." Dean didn't speak, he just shivered.

Chapter 2

The Dragon

It was dark in the inn at night, very dark, except for the candles that were on the stairways and the lanterns in various spots. Dean was in a room with no window with a large bed and a broken sink and a disposal container. A few bookshelves were in one corner and a bundle of hay was in another. Dean couldn't sleep as he walked out into the hallway; a hollow sense from Robert's interpretation was still lingering at the bottom of his stomach. Just then, the stair creaked and Robert walked up the stairs. "God, what are you doing here? You scared the living daylight out of me, Dean." "Sorry, I can't sleep." "Well, you can have a cold bath in a tub on the second floor, if you wish. It's not that it's just…" "Are you pondering of why the village is so desolate these days?" Dean remembered his thought and couldn't help to say 'yes', but then Boat's words echoed in his head: I think a young lad like thou shouldn't here it, for 'tis a gory and filled with sad tales, indeed.

"Well, come into the lounging room and I'll tell you." Robin walked down the stairs in his nightshirt, in his fluffy slippers. Dean followed, in the dark flickering moonlight through a black curtain. The lounging room was bright with several lights abroad and glossy white tiles on the walls. The bar was just below them. Robin looked at Dean and began his tale.

"A man lived in a house, lowly and full of poverty it was. The man hated many things, but especially the dwarves for their town square was right near his house and he got annoyed because they met, chatted and celebrated there. Well one day, the man who was Mr. Honk crept through the village and killed each dwarf, one by one and of course a dwarf isn't nimble or strong and stood no chance even against the old man, frail and weak he was. The dwarves' blood and heads were splattered all over the town square. Guts splattered onto the stones and streets. Several dwarves escaped or were in hiding because in the dwarf village news spreads lightning fast, y-you see." Robin yawned and stretched. "Well, that's it." There was a short pause broken by Robin's talk. "Oh yeah, Dean, Boat sent an note to you that he's going fishing at the swamp tomorrow and asked if you wanted to come with his friend." "Who's his friend?" "Dunno, maybe one of them imps or elves." Robin sighed and said, "you better get to sleep tomorrow, I wake my people early you know."

The next morning, the air was slightly warmer and pale sunlight poured everywhere, shunting the shadows into narrow corners. The volcano was even visible through the heavy mist and had a heavy red glow about it. "Where's the swamp?" asked Dean at breakfast to a man. "Uh, it's near the forest don't worry you'll find it, impossible to miss." Dean shrugged feeling hesitant. The guard was still by the door, and peering out of it. Dean dressed and walked out of the inn next morning. The sky was very pale and nearly white as Dean peered up at it. Boat was at the edge of the road waiting with a small goblin by his side, which was carrying a spear and had puce-colored skin and a blade attached to his tail. "Hi, Dean here's my friend, Imp." Imp was very energetic and kept cackling to himself. "Hi," he croaked jumping around and doing a back flip. In boat's hand, he dragged several fishing poles, he handed the longest one to Dean. Imp joyfully ran to the swamp first, giggling. They arrived there shortly and the swamp was a large area with willows bent over there branches dipped into the murky water causing a thick curtain of leaves to limit their sight. Tall marshes surrounded the area and the trunks of trees were visible, through thick wet branches criss-crossing one another. A small dock ran out halfway into the water, with rotting wooden planks and rope banisters at either end. Imp cackled and croaked, "Bet there's something behind those branches, eh Boat?" Boat looked through the thick curtain the willows caused. "Probably, but nobody has ever went there, I'm not so sure 'bout it." "We better not…uh explore, just f-fish." Boat spoke nervously as if there was something he didn't want to tell, behind that curtain.

Dean attached a fat, wiggling warm onto his fishing hook and dipped it into the murky water. There was a deathly pause and an icy breeze rustled by, sending a jolt of electricity up Dean's spine. Boat and Imp helped themselves into a small raft and rowed out into the swamp. Dean walked onto the dock, feeling uneasy. The planks rattled as his weight adjusted from one side of the plank to another. In the water for a split second a flash of yellow light blinded Dean, and the next second he splashed down into the warm depths of the swamp. He thrashed through the thick depths as he slowly fell and saw thick serpents slither by. After another second, Dean had fainted.

He woke up to find himself lying on the shore of a bay of unknown. The volcano was still in sight; in fact he was at the very foot of it! Then he saw two men staggering near him, dressed in tall cloaks, their bony skeletal hands protruding from their black cloaks. Dean stumbled across the grass, groping. He was covered with strands of blue-green seaweed, and saw that a man was waiting for him at the stream, in which he had been washed up upon. The man was too wearing a hood, but as he pulled it off Dean gave a sigh of relief and hopped into the canoe. The man was Robin, and Dean felt grateful. He saw the hooded figures blindly stagger about. The lead one with a jewel encrusted into the top of his hood held up a gnarled wooden staff, and muttered strange words of the unknown. A swirl of blue-yellow light flashed into his staff from the sky, more flashes appeared, as the sky seemed to twist in illusion. The skeletal man threw out his staff with one hand and sent jets of blue light after Dean and Robin. Robin panted hard, rowing, his arms aching. "Boat and Imp warned me and I came as soon as possible." "Blimey," he continued rowing frantically. The jets of light had missed them and had hit the large boulders on either side of them, which crumbled. The volcano rumbled for a second as if in rage and then stilled.

They soon arrived at Robin's Inn shortly and the guard was waiting for them, his brow furrowed his eyes frantic and nervous. He bustled them in quickly and closed the door sharply behind them. Imp and Boat were both at chairs waiting for Dean. Robert was even there, waiting his long pale hands set upon the table. Robin beckoned him to a seat after drying Dean. Boat looked at Dean nervously. "What happened?" asked Robert. "Boat, Imp and I were fishing in the swamp, you know. Then I kind of stumbled and fell into the water because some blasted light seemed to blind me. When I fell…" He shuddered. "Thick writhing, blue and scaly serpents sped through the water, like savages, mate." Robert looked at Dean sharply from beneath his hood. Dean continued, "I just fainted and woke up. I was on this stream at the foot of a volcano, mind you."

"Blimey," said Imp not looking excited or happy as he usually was. "Tomorrow," said Robert slowly. "I sense journey awaits you." "Can you take off your hood, it looks kind of spooky like those staggering creatures back at the stream. Robert paused for a split second. Then Robert continued, "You wouldn't want to see my face…" "Why'd you come back anyway?" asked Dean flashing a glance at Boat. Imp looked closely at Robert who sighed and clasped a hand on his hood and pulled it back. Everybody in the room gave a gasp.

Robert's face was a swirling mass of white mist, swirling like flame upon his face. Two blazing slits of fire were serving as his eyes, they too flickered eerily. The customers of Robin's Inn looked at Robert in awe and then continued to their talk. Robert stared at Dean who gaped back in surprise. Robert said harshly, "Now are you satisfied, Boat?" Boat remained silent. Robert put his hood back on. "Those men at the stream how were they like?" "Had skeletal hands, faces were unseen. One of them with a jewel or something upon the top of its hood had a gnarled wooden staff. It sort of raised it and flashes of light flew in." Robert muttered slowly to himself. "What?" croaked Imp. "Grout, he's getting hungry. His men, these creatures, they're horrible servants. They're known as the Soldiers of the Dark." "How's Grout like?" The bar silenced and a man walked into the center of the bar. "You want to know how Grout looked like?" "Yeah, so?" Robert stood up and shooed the man back into his seat. "Many people's siblings or kin got slain by Grout. He's got hands of fire, mind you. In fact he's all a blaze, like a spirit. He has this armor upon his fiery body, it glimmers black and cannot melt. His mask is peevish and black as well. Only holes, which illuminate flame. He lives in this turret in a pool of flame, it rises above all and is the edge of the volcano."

"You want take a breath, mates? It's terribly hot in here, mind you." "Very well, let's go outside for a while." The four trooped out, the bar grunted as they passed. They soon arrived outside. It was very cold now, and the haze about had turned scarlet. Dean looked around, it was all so hazy." Boat coughed. "What's happening?" "Grout's work…" "No, it's not he himself. His creatures, I suppose said Robert, withdrawing a long sword from his belt. Dean quickly strung a bow in his arrow and arched it poised for a shot. Then they heard a low growl. A huge menacing fire serpent with slabs of charred rock to form its hide writhed in front of them. Its tail flickered with fire under the pieces of loose rocks. It let out a fearsome shriek. Upon it's flickering back was a man. "ROGUE!" hissed Robert, tightening his grip on his sword and taking of his hood. His eyes flickered in rage. Robert thrust his sword out. "You were once my friend, Rogue. But you thought better, you decided to plot BEHIND MY BACK, indeed!" Rogue, or whoever he was gave a chuckle and pointed a spear at Robert. "Indeed, my dear friend. We shall see, indeed. Dorian, my dragon takes care of THEM!" Rogue fastened an ivory gauntlet around the fastenings around the dragon's neck. The dragon's powerful neck shook shaking its head dry from heat. It arched back its mouth and set a spurt of flame out. Robert held up his hand and said, "we stand no chance, but we will fight to our death then to join ranks with you!" "Fight if you wish, for thou soul never lasts when Grout sends his wrath!" His eyes flashed at Dean and chuckled. "You probably know why…" Robert flashed a glance at Dean and then brandished his sword. "Fight if you wish, Rogue." "Ha, very funny. I do not slay the prey my lord desires to keep as prisoners! Come silently and we shall spill no blood, come on." The dragon's emerald eyes gleamed as it crouched. The four did not move. Boat and Imp both whimpered. The dragon arched its long neck back and spit a surge of flame so quick and nimble it nearly charred the ground.

Red mist hovered about, as Rogue chuckled and held out his spear. "I gave you a chance, maybe a little blood should be spilled." "Come, you!" he pointed at Dean, who filled with curiosity and queasiness. Robert stood in front of Dean. "He senses it in you, too for you are the one who shall rise the beast of the Platinum Plateau. "Me?" Rogue looked at them and said, "into battle then Dorian, remember don't harm the boy, Grout needs him." Rogue leapt lightly off his dragon, which crouched beside him, its huge menacing claws swung and slashed wildly. It growled and Dean shot an arrow quickly at the dragon. "Quit your archery, for no arrow shall survive in flame. Run, leave him to me!" Dean, not wanting to anger Robert or get into any serious problems ran, Imp and Boat at his heels. Robin and his customers were also fleeing as lava streamed down from the volcano, which shook violently. More dragons soared in the sky and hooded men stalked onto the streets. In the center riding upon a carried throne was the captain of the infantry, Braque. Braque was a savage looking creature, reptilian in fact, with long savage claws. Braque hissed through a large mouth filled with rows and rows of teeth, "is he caught, Rogue?" "He's fleeing, AFTER HIM!" Immediately at these words the volcano shook and the army silenced. "HE FLED!?!? I GAVE THOU DIRECT ORDERS, BUT THY DOES NOT OBEY? KILL ALL EXCEPT FOR MY DESTINATION, BRING HIM TO ME! I, LORD GROUT DO NOT EXCEPT FOOLISHNESS!" Robert raised his sword trying to fight some men, carrying long wooden staffs. But it was no use. He was out numbered. He too fled. The red haze made some customers collapse of heat as it spread like a plague across the land. "BRING HIM TO ME!" roared Grout. "'TIS A FOOL TO DISOBEY THE LORD OF THE VOLCANO AND THE TOMBS OF SATI!" "YOU FOOLS ARE UNTRUSTWORTHY, SHALL I HAVE TO USE THE SOLDIERS FROM MY TOMB?" The soldiers scurried, trying to slaughter.

Dean, Boat and Imp had scurried and were only three now, Robert was somewhere. The red mist converted into flame and raged after them. They ran, their faces choking from smoke. Their skin was covered in black ash. "AFTER THEM!" boomed Lord Grout in a menacing tone that echoed through the trees. Dean stumbled, pulling back thick branches and ferns. The night was loud with shrieks and cries and the yelling of Lord Grout. They hurried, their hands groping for land as they fled into the woods. In a haze of purple smoke all around them, men in cloaks appeared with engravings upon their gauntlets, which carried scythes. Dean shot two arrows at one of the figures, which staggered and fell, choking. They hurried through the darkness, which sped by them onwards and onwards….

Robert caught up with them in the dark forest. They had seeked haven and refuge from the soldiers in a small cave with Robin, Thomas and the guard. Thomas was a middle-aged man who was skilled in the art of the crossbow. "Rubbish," the guard had muttered shaking his bearded head, "anything can shoot a bolt". The seven people sat in the cave eating some frozen fish that had thawed over some flickering coals. They were cold and hungry for they were rarely filled and their bellies were bumbling uncomfortably. Robin had said they were in a place called the Yeti Howl. Each person was nervous and timid, for nothing could suppress the yelling of Lord Grout. Grout's volcano was still in the distance and stirred once every now and then. Occasionally, pure white dragons flew peacefully through the sky. The land was mainly white and gray with a splash of green, hither and thither. The air was very icy, and the fortnight had been bloodcurdling. They were all badly scarred by the thick branches that had whipped across them so quickly that they made them bleed severely. Robert was not burned or had any visible damage, for his flickering white form was about the same, except it had grew darker. When Dean had asked why, Robert had explained he had gotten burned a little but it would heal so need not to worry. There was occasionally some howling in the mountains at night and Robin had said if they traveled across the tundra they would get to the Prairie Plains, then the Tiger Forest and then they would come to the Serpent Sea, after that there was the Platinum Plateau.

Food was scarce but some healthy shrubs were about but not filling. These shrubs were in hard shells; they had to crack, which was a lot of work for so little meat and juice. Surprisingly it was warm. Dean held the shell the size of a large egg with both of his hands. He struck it against a bolder, and a thin crack emerged upon its surface. He struck for fifteen whole minutes before there were two decent cracks. He put his fingers through and pried them open, groaning with effort. The herb tasting warm and pleasant as it flitted in his stomach like a butterfly and aided his hunger. Thomas came back in carrying a small goose he had shot from the sky. Robin, the guard and Robert had been planning to slay one of the dragons in the sky so they were currently nowhere to be seen. "Are there mountain lions around here?" "I dunno, probably," said Thomas. Just then they heard a cry up in the mountains, a thump and a groan that was animal-like. A shriek sounded and the flapping of wings. Thomas and Dean with the imp and Boat and their knees scurried out to see the source of such noise. The guard's leg was bleeding and a dragon had a cleaver stuck in its wing, as it flapped weakly. Robin and Robert stayed back carrying their swords and threatening the dragon. The guard was aided when Thomas rushed up and bandaged the leg and put it into a splint. The guard's face was twisted in excruciating pain as he groaned and tightened his grasp on the leg. Dean dragged out a stuffed, soft knapsack for the guard's pillow and set the guard on a skin. The dragon was flying in circles, and unevenly making odd clucking noises. It was high in the sky as it shrieked in pain and landed loudly in the snow. Dean packed the goose in a block of ice and helped Robin and Robert cut up the dragon to bring into the cave. The process was brisk for animals of all the sort would be attracted to the aroma of a dragon on the ground. Two horns upon its large head were made of ivory. Thomas examined them carefully and found two blades grown naturally out of its tail also made out of ivory. "I can make something out of this," he quoted studying the dragon, which twitched and snorted. Immediately, Robin slashed the dragon with his sword and it collapsed again, this time it was truly dead. They chopped a large slab off and cut a hole in a nearby block of ice with a war hammer and stored the dragon inside. With suppressed effort, they dragged the block of ice into the cave. Thomas attended to the guard who winced, but his leg began to heal gradually over the days. Nothing practically exciting was occurring around…yet.

Chapter 3

CAPTURED!

Dean was cold as he sat upon the large, gray boulder in the cave, eating the very last morsels of dragon meat left. They were hungry and had to get a move on; even though the guard had fully recovered it would be ages across the icy tundra before they reached a known destination.

Dean looked around the cave and saw Robert, Boat and Imp all in one corner and talking quickly in whispers. "What are you doing?" he asked wearily. He walked over towards them. "We're just planning for the journey ahead," said Robert was a sigh moving a gnarled finger upon a large, aging scroll. Robin, the guard and Thomas returned in the afternoon and had noted that they had not gotten any catch. "Blast," growled Robert, his stomach growling uncomfortably. "If that's the matter, boys I'm afraid we won't last long," he spat. "We better get a move and go somewhere." Robin looked from one person at another. Their small fire flickered eerily on the cave walls during the pause. He looked out of the cave, the sky was darkened with volcanic ash, and they spotted two black dragons soaring around the volcano. "Why don't the soldiers come after us?" asked Imp. "Uh, probably because of the yetis." "Yetis?" "Yeah, once you see a yeti, you'll never forget it said Robert clutching his sword rather tightly. "Huge, looming hairy creatures, they are. Developed a hungry appetite to eat people, blimey." "Seriously?" "Yes," "Grout is afraid of them?" "No, it's not that. He can burn one anytime, but…" "How come we haven't ever gotten attacked by one?" "I doubt one will come not." "All in time."

"If we're going to move," Robert continued his eyes flashing eerily. "We better pack and have food and a good source of supplies." "Right you are, so…uh we might be going a little hungry." "No, why starve? Each person shall search for food." "Leaving the cave abandoned?" "What if somebody lives in it? What if somebody robs us, eh?" asked Boat with unison wringing his aged hands. "You have a better idea, eh?" "Yes, we can bait the creatures to come to the cave and attack them then." "And what if we're outnumbered or attract too much attention?" Just then a piercing shriek broke through the air. It was a pure black dragon, with many horns as it soared and dipped in the sky, rode by Rogue and seven soldiers of the dark rode upon the flame dragon, each carrying long, metal spears. "Ah, look what we have here!" Robert stood up and waved his sword angrily. "Scat, you lowly peasant!" "Really? Well, we are here to take that scum of a boy, Grout's orders. "I'm afraid you're outnumbered since my men are very experienced and each war chiefs." Robert gave an angry snarl, "we'll fight to the end." "How about my Dorian, eh? She's worth twenty-five men, you want to fight, eh?" Robert was speechless. He looked hesitantly around. Dean felt clammy and cold. Just then there was a roar down in the ledges and Rogue took off. Upon a huge flaming lion that clashed upon the snow, with two thousand men at his heels, all upon fire horses rode out was Grout, he himself. Grout was a flame man with a metal, charred mask and armor upon him. His fingers flickered as the air around him hazily flickered. Soldiers carrying axes rode beside him, upon the horses, their armored faces covered by a heavy visor. Robert staggered back and hissed, "Grout." He looked at the volcano, which remained dull in the distance. "We stand no chance, FLEE!" he roared. As he walked out into the open, silver ropes shot out of Grout's hands and struck Robert upon the back. "GROUT SHALL SPARE NO MERCY, FOOL! YOU THINK YOU CAN DEFEAT ME! ROBERT, INDEED I REMEMBER YOU WELL. YOUR SERVICE WAS MOST SATISFACTORY BUT YOU THOUGHT BITTER, YOU FOUL THING!" Grout roared in rage and struck the fire lion, which quickly trampled up the ledges. He was right at the cave entrance. "Come with me, Dean!" he said holding out a gauntlet. Dean had no choice as he climbed onto the fire lion with Lord Grout, he himself.

Lord Grout immediately wrapped a blazing hand around Dean. Surprisingly the hand did not feel hot, but the strange creature they were riding on blazed and the soldiers trotted upon their horses away to the volcano…

The ride was brief and soon they walked into a heavily guarded door, guarded by ugly trolls clutching battle clubs. They leered unpleasantly at Dean but bowed before Lord Grout, who chuckled to himself as they did this and walked into a large circular room with no doors on either side. A small dragon, lay curled up with its scaly sides wrapped together, as it steadily breathed. "Get up!" roared Grout angrily, his mask expressions changing as the mask turned into a liquid metal. Grout walked over to the dragon, struck it with a blaze of fire from his hand and hopped upon it. He dragged Dean upon it and rose. Soon they stopped at a floor with ancient dusty walls. "He blew the dust aside and examined the small etchings upon the wall. Muttering odd words under his breath he swept into a dark room. He pushed Dean into a stool and seated himself in a golden throne. He conjured balls of flame that floated in the air magically. He looked at Dean and said quietly. "What's thou name?" "'Tis Dean." "Dijon, come over here!" snapped Lord Grout. A man in a large cloak staggered out and put down a clear crystal ball. He peered through the ball mysteriously, his eyes flashing and gleaming. "Yes, the Serpent, I see him writhing. The boar, silver and platinum with tusks strong as gold embark in your perilous journey. "I sense…" Grout had frozen and wiped the ball clean with a spurt of flame from his eyes. He stopped, staggered back and then glared at Dean. Dijon, whoever he was walked out of the door. The flames flickering in midair illuminated the room brightly but even so, the flames upon Grout flickered and blazed endlessly.

"TO THE DUNGEONS!" he bellowed. Immediately, eight soldiers staggered into the room and snatched Dean. They entered into a lower level and soldiers lined the walls, each carrying menacing weapons, they growled as Dean passed. The dungeon was a small, about airless cell. They threw Dean messily into a cell that was indeed heavily guarded. Dean's gaze darted about; the dead form of a human being was lying in a hay pile, half decayed and flies buzzed about. The air was so hot and humid. He was captured.

Chapter 4

THE WITCH


End file.
